Last Day of Winter First Day of Spring
by magnipisika16
Summary: As he uttered these painful words, hardly any breath came out of his mouth, and his skin was getting even colder. The "prince" felt all these, but, he did not react—or at least, he chose not to react. He just watched the new season finally settling in around them. Spring. It was finally Spring. The last day of Winter.


**Hello~ Sorry I haven't updated in a long time… There's just so much things that went up. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this little fic ^_^**

**-m16-**

Autumn has ended and Winter has fully settled in. Everything seemed frozen, including his small, almost fragile body. The frostiness had begun to seep through the small cracks of his home and, in due time, the small cracks of his body. He trembled, as if the mere shaking of his limbs could ease anything up.

Soon enough, the cold have turned into pain. His limbs ached like hell, and if this goes, he knew he might just die.

Illusionists' number one weakness is physical pain—that no one can deny.

Every now and then, he'd scream of tremendous hurt, but no matter how loud he shouts, no one will hear, but that was what he liked most about his home. No one can notice the piece of hell he was enduring every living day of his life.

In a small home at the foot of a rumoured mystical hill, a young illusionist lies ill and alone, yet somewhat contented.

The first day of Winter; the beginning of the end.

Then came one day—and on that day, he was finally numb—the young illusionist's home was invaded. No, not by enemies… although, perhaps he can say that the "unexpected visitor" can be considered that of an obstructer.

An obstructer of silence, that is.

The heavy footsteps from outside his room woke him from his endless dream, and the familiar laugh that loomed around his small home brought him back to reality.

His most beloved reality.

"Ushishishi," the visitor greeted, sliding the door that divided his small private space and the bits of the outside world. "Hey there, Froggy Peasant…"

The young illusionist watched the visitor welcome himself to his dome, providing himself a place next to his bed. The visitor sat comfortably at his designated place, all the while presenting a fully-toothed smile at the suffering host, as if the earlier enjoyed watching the state of the latter.

"Well, well," the visitor commented with amusement. "You've been better… Looks like when that master of yours said you're no longer of any use, he wasn't kidding. You seem less useful than flies in a buffet."

He laughed like it was the funniest thing he had ever said, and expected a comeback from his former junior. However, there was none. The younger just stared and watched him make a fool of himself.

"Oi, what's with the face?" he asked. "What? This sickness of yours took your ability to speak or something? Say, what happened to you anyway?"

The illusionist didn't bother answering for he knew his senior knew. He was smart, this senior of his, so he most absolutely is knowledgeable of what could happen when an illusionist overuses his abilities. If truth be told, this particular one is quite lucky he's still alive. Most of the cases regarding them all have the same end result: Death.

"You talk when the Prince asks you a question, Froggy," the "Prince" teased, poking the other's shoulder, making the latter wince. He suddenly turned to his side, and curled into a ball, wincing as seconds ticked by. It was another of his regular seizures during the days, and he curses whoever is up there for timing it up with his sadistic senior's visit. His regular protocol was to gather up some guts and create a small illusion of relief, but this time, he really could not move his arms. They remained clutched onto his throbbing chest.

In a few minutes time, the pain shall subside, but for the weakening illusionist, those minutes will be like centuries; six excruciatingly painful centuries.

As he tried to catch his breath, he felt something small and spherical enter his mouth, and felt someone's palm cover it, making him swallow the object. Then, another hand scooped up the back of his head, and held the water bottle to his lips.

"Drink," his senior said, much to his surprise. But, despite that, he did so, and almost too quickly, he felt better. He opened his eyes, and saw his senior staring at him in a way he never knew the older could do.

"Senpai…" he voiced out, eyes narrowing in weak confusion. "Why…?"

"What do you mean 'why'?" he asked back. "Shishi, you should be grateful I saved you there. Heh, looks like my homemade anaesthesia also works on that illness of yours…" The "Prince" stretched his hand out to feel his burning forehead, and sighed.

"Still too high," he heard him mumble under his breath. "Oh well! The Prince shall stay here and watch over Froggy then. Until he gets better…"

"What for…?"

"Simple. It's no fun to bully you when you don't fight back." He laid the younger down gently, and draped a blanket over his body.

"Go to sleep…"

"O-okay…"

As soon as he closed his eyes, the "Prince" smiled.

"I look forward to hear you call me 'Fallen Prince' one more time…"

The young illusionist's face was smeared with a faint smile as his breathing become rhythmic. His days will surely be painful as long as his condition would continue worsening.

But, he was overwhelmed nonetheless, for now he shall wake up with someone to look forward to.

It was different, however, for the "Prince" for he expected something more from his visit. Although he loved to see people suffering, he still hated the weak. Watching his former partner wallow himself in the clutches of pain sickened him.

He hated the weak.

He can't stand the spineless.

He wanted to kill them all.

But this young man in front of him _means _something, and so shall he try to endure everything as much as he could.

In a small room in an equally small house concealed in the heart of the forgotten, a young assassin sits still for hours or so, waiting for those short moments when his young companion would open his eyes and show signs of life.

The darker days of Winter; he anticipated for the worst.

The blond assassin found himself tying back his shoes one day. He stared out the window and found that the weeklong blizzard has subsided. A short trip outside of that blasted home would be just the thing to ease himself out. Especially after that fight he just had with the young illusionist.

Truthfully, the fight in itself was normal these past few days—although, when one looks at it, the fights typically one-sided, considering it was always the assassin who first lost his temper and the rest would go downhill. The assassin is well aware of that fact, which is why, at the very end, he'd stomp out of the younger's room and regret.

He does not really mean to be that way to his former junior. If he were himself, he would've killed him then and there. The problem is that he couldn't bring himself to do it, and the mere act of watching the younger slowly deteriorate in his deathbed can drive him insane with fear; something he never knew he could feel in his life.

"Where are you going, Senpai…?" He needn't turn around, which is a good thing, since he couldn't. The picture of his junior struggling just to stand up and follow him may be enough to destroy him.

"I need some air," he replied, pulling his hand away from the door and placing them both in separate pockets. "How about you? Why are you up from your bed? Tiring yourself out is not good for you and you know that…"

"You come out too suddenly," the other sighed wearily as he turned around to look at him. "I've been noticing that you've been doing that past few days… What's wrong, Bel-senpai?"

"Just go back to bed, Froggy…"

"You seem dressed… Are you leaving already, senpai?"

"Go back to bed…"

"That's too bad… It's much livelier when you're around…" He watched the younger force a smile at him.

"You talk as if it doesn't mean anything to you if I leave or not."

"Of course it means something to me, Senpai. I don't really want you to leave me, to be honest. But, I don't own you and your decision, so you're free to do what you want…"

"What I want…?" he smirked. "You're saying that I'm free to do what I want?" He laughed. "Okay then, the Prince wants to save the Froggy!"

The younger stared at him mournfully.

"Senpai…"

"What?" he mocked. "You said that I was _free _to do what I want, and what I want is to save you… But can I do that? No. You're dying in front of me and I can't freakin' do anything about it, much as I want to fight against that!"

He couldn't help himself. With so much longing and desperation, he ran towards the younger and wrapped him in his embrace. The latter just stared blankly at whatever was beyond him, as if he wasn't heeding his senior's pleading sobs. But still, even though he felt nothing from the younger, he continued crying.

Pleading… Lamenting… Sobbing… These were all unbecoming of a prince—something he claims himself to be, but one can tell from that state that he was in that he knew he had no choice.

Shortly after, he loosened his grip on the young illusionist, and expectedly, he found the latter asleep. After wiping away his excessive tears, he scooped the younger up, and brought him back to his bed. Then, he went straight off the house and ran towards somewhere.

Anywhere.

He was slowly sinking into madness, and he is now desperately trying to clutch on whatever means of sanity that he still had left. When he finally felt like he could catch himself again, he turned to where he knew he could attain at least a little tranquillity—a small lake.

It was frozen, expectedly, but nevertheless, he went near it and saw his reflection in the faint ripples.

He looked hopelessly broken. So broken that he could hardly recognize himself in there. He didn't see a Bloody prince. He saw a broken-hearted young man who just desire nothing but his young friend back.

Desperately.

"Fran…" he choked, and then punched the frozen lake with full aggravation. "Damn you! How _dare _you make me feel this way about you? The prince does not want this! He wants his Froggy! _Only _his Froggy!"

_Kero._

"Huh?"

_Kero. Kero._

The "Prince" wiped away his tears and looked around, but he found nothing. Still the croaking continued.

_Kero. Kero. Kero._

Then he stared in front of him, and found a small, green and slimy amphibian.

He saw a frog.

_Kero._

Then he looked to his side and found another.

And another.

And another.

Before he knew it, he was being surrounded by a big group of frogs, all croaking at him, their eyes monotonously pried into his trembling body. He just blinked at all of them, and they just stared back, as if both were waiting for the reply of one another.

Then he laughed, and so did the frogs in the form of monotonous croaking.

He knew he was crazy for doing so, but he couldn't help it. These slimy swimmers—every single one of them—reminded him of the young illusionist: croaky, monotonous, not necessarily slimy, but essentially comforting.

"Are you trying to tell me something, Froggy?" he muttered between giggles. "If you are, then let me tell you this…"

He took a deep breath, ending up with another broken smile.

"I love you too…"

The "Prince" hurriedly went home as soon as evening fell deeper. He wanted to tell the younger about that peculiar incident he was just in. And, although this will be very out-of-character, apologize to him as well.

But, as soon as he reached home, those positive thoughts ended in zilch.

He saw the illusionist lying on the hoary ground, pale and unconscious.

"FRAN!" he cried as he almost flew to the younger's side. He shook him, called for him, and even slapped him, just to wake him up. The younger never did however, but still he insisted he was still alive.

All the while that he was carrying him in and trying to revive him, screams and demands for explanation came from his brain. His heart would response freely and almost too immediately, and the explanation it would provide was all the more fearing:

Did the young illusionist rise up from his bed for the second time and found him already gone? Did he stood there on his porch waiting—all the more hoping—for him to come back, and then collapsed on the cold ground when his body couldn't take it?

What has he done? How could he leave his young Junior to suffer on his own without his Senior by his side?"

"Fran, wake up!" he cried helplessly, shaking him. "Don't die on me just yet… Not yet… Please, Fran…"

He felt for the younger's face, and found it cold. He rested his ear on his chest, and heard nothing.

That was when he began to cry, but only for a _very _short moment.

Almost too immediately, he wrapped his arms around the younger one and carried him up. Then he ran, the boy in his trembling arms, back up the mountain to where he first found that lake.

The sky was dark gray at that time, almost near morning, and the blowing breeze was all the more freezing. He could see his breath as he panted, but still he went on until he reached the part he was in not long ago. Funny how much it changed since he was last here, which was just a few moments ago.

The lake has come back to its original form, and the snow around it was beginning to melt, showing the damp and dark green grass. Everything was slowly transforming from Winter to Spring; from cold to warmth; from despair to relief.

But the frogs were gone.

"No…"

On top of a rumoured mystical hill, there sits a young assassin, his most beloved junior in his arms, doing things that he never knew he could do until he did:

He begged,

He prayed.

He beseeched whoever was up there to save the young man.

Take the prince.

Take him instead.

This world can live on even without a nasty man like him, but his world will definitely crumble if he loses the only person he had allowed himself to love.

"Please bring him back to me…" he whispered, cuddling the younger's aquamarine head towards his face, trying to provide him with any means of warmth he could give to keep him alive.

But he felt like everything was in futile.

From behind the tall trees, light began to seep through, its rays landing on the lake, making it glimmer. He watched everything gleam back to life while basking into the morning light.

Winter is taking its leave.

It didn't take long before the light reached them, and as soon as it landed on the illusionist's eyelids moved in a tightening manner, and slowly, ever so slowly, he opened them, landing a smile to his tear-stained senior.

"Bel…?"

"Yeah, Fran?"

"Are you crying?"

"Shishi, that's ridiculous, peasant. I'm a Prince! Princes don't cry for anything…"

"_You're _crying for something…" He chuckled. "Seriously, you're nothing but a Fallen Prince…"

"Yeah, you're right," the "Prince" agreed. "I'm nothing but a Fallen Prince…"

He rested his forehead on the younger's.

"That is, a prince who has fallen deeply for his Froggy…"

To that, the younger smiled as tears fell down his eyes.

"I knew it," he sighed. "I always knew…"

A lone tear trickled down his pale face.

"And I always felt the same way…"

He pressed himself towards his senior's chest, and whispered:

"I'm sorry, Senpai... I'm afraid that love will only go to waste, much as I want to go against Fate…"

As he uttered these painful words, hardly any breath came out of his mouth, and his skin was getting even colder. The "prince" felt all these, but, he did not react—or at least, he chose not to react. He just watched the new season finally settling in around them.

Spring.

It was finally Spring.

The last day of Winter.

Their final moment together.

-**FIN-**

**Yeah, not a good ending, I know *sighs. Well, I'm full of tragedies as of late, and because, I pronounce my profuse apologies! Still, I hope you guys enjoyed it ^_^ It's been a long time since I last updated, and it wouldn't hurt to hear some reviews from you guys! I missed you all!**

***serious mode* Ne, minna-san, I've been hearing about a group who were reporting and doing other shits like that to our fellow writers, and to them, let me just tell you this: FUCK OFF, BITCHES! FIND ANOTHER WEBSITE TO DIS BECAUSE THIS AIN'T YOUR PLAYGROUND, GOT IT?**

***smiles sweetly***

**That's all ^_^**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Please review!**

**LoveLots~**


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